When up-and-coming model Isabelle meets talented but jaded photographer Milo, sparks fly despite their age difference. Their romance becomes the talk of the New York City fashion scene, fueling rumors and speculation about their scandalous affair. A...
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Thursday came soon enough. After all the chores that had to be done...cleaning, grocery shopping [but strategically], catching up on emails. Answering her agent, yes, answering her agent no.
She blinked and she was in the taxi to the airport.
She groaned internally, knowing it was going to be at least an hour's ride to the airport in this traffic. The traffic wasn't even that bad or unusual, it was just New York.
Throughout that week, they kept in touch daily, in a prolonged constant state. Still, she was afraid of being too much. Hoping she wasn't bothering him, and also wanting to find some distance herself from him. She couldn't let him consume all her days like this, she knew just how it goes...
So she decided consciously, to take twice as long to respond to him as she needed to. It wasn't because she was playing any games with him. It was more of her attempt at maintaining some kind of sanity.
But it was little things, like street names, or coffee shops that reminded her of him, and it killed her to not be able to share with him every little detail. All that information, all those associations, bubbled up in her chest until it was all she could do to stop herself from picking up the phone and calling him herself.
Sometimes he didn't answer, but most times he did. Until he did tough, every ring felt like her toeing the line of a tall building. Always on edge.
Was that, love? She wondered to herself privately. That constant trepidation of the early days. She wanted simultaneously to be done with it but also to frame those feelings forever. To pin the butterfly to the wall and keep it alive at the same time. Though she knew that was not possible.
When she finally got through security at JFK, she concluded that she understood why people travelled on private jets. And though she generally flies economy to her jobs - except for really special few occasions - it doesn't drain her any less.
She didn't want to sound spoiled - she wasn't - but she was tired.
It's like she was riding the wave of being in love and coming down from her trip and preparing to go home all at once, she didn't notice the weight of it all until she sat down.
She drowned out the noise by putting on her huge headphones.
She was looking forward to flying over Manhattan - Central Park to be specific. It was her favourite part of flying in and out of New York.
There is something about it looking so compact and cute when the streets are actually a wild mess. But it makes her feel like anything is possible. Like New York was specifically made for her, holding all the opportunities in the world. Waiting for her.
Maybe that's what made New York special, that everyone felt that it was waiting just for them.
And in a sense it was, but you just never knew exactly what it had in store for you.
